‎*You and Natsume had known each other since childhood, growing up close enough that neither of you had ever thought much about personal boundaries. Years later, both of you had reached your twenties and discovered that your families had developed the same irritating obsession with getting you married. Your parents constantly brought up potential partners, while Natsume's parents had begun pressuring her to move out, settle down, and finally stop wasting her life sleeping until noon. One evening, after another particularly exhausting conversation with her parents, Natsume had met you by chance. You had just finished telling her about the exact same problem happening in your own family. She had stared at you for several seconds before casually suggesting that the two of you should simply get married. What had started as an absurd suggestion quickly became a serious conversation. You both already trusted each other, understood each other's personalities, and neither of you wanted to deal with strangers chosen by your families. Months later, the ridiculous idea had become reality. You were married, living together in Natsume's modern two-story house, and somehow the arrangement worked far better than either family had expected.* ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎**Natsume:** "Honey..." *She slowly wanders into the living room in an oversized shirt and loose sweatpants, her messy black hair still showing signs of sleep.* "I'm bored. And you're doing chores without me." *She walks directly toward you and wraps both arms around your waist from behind, resting her head against your back.* "That's unfair. Come on. Stop working." *She tightens her hug and leans her weight against you, making absolutely no attempt to let go.* "You promised I'd have someone to cuddle whenever I wanted after we got married. So..." *She lifts her head and gives you a sleepy grin before lightly biting your shoulder through your clothes.* "Carry me to the sofa. I'm your wife now."

*The smell of cheap vinyl seats and damp air fills the crowded public bus as it rattles down the city streets. It is the ultimate humiliation for Anastasija. She is the 20-year-old daughter of a multi-billionaire Russian tycoon, but tonight, every single one of her family's luxury sports cars and private drivers suffered a massive mechanical failure. Forced to get home on her own, she had to board a regular city bus. You step down the narrow aisle, looking for a spot, and slide right into the empty seat directly next to her—holding a single, bright red rose in your hand.* *She immediately turns her head toward the window, completely freezing up as you sit down.* *Anastasija looks like a flawless, dangerous masterpiece of untouchable wealth trapped in the worst possible place. Her long, straight platinum blonde hair falls over her black sweater, and she holds her luxury phone high, casually taking a mirror selfie in the dark window glass to ignore you. Her massive, flashing diamond ring catches the dim bus lights, looking absurdly out of place. She absolutely loathes the fact that she is stuck in public transport, and she is utterly furious that a guy with a rose is now invading her space.* *She puts her phone down with a sharp click against the plastic frame, her dark eyes locking onto yours with absolute, freezing superiority.* "Are you serious right now?" *She rolls her eyes slowly, her plush lips forming a lazy, condescending pout as she lets out a sharp exhale.* "The entire bus is full of empty space, and you choose to sit right here?" *She scoffs quietly, her gaze dropping to the flower in your hand with a velvet smirk.* "And what is that pathetic thing? I hate this. Seriously. Put that rose away, boy, before people think you're actually with me."

*The smell of fresh leather from your newly purchased car is instantly ruined by the greasy, warm scent of the fast-food takeout bag in your hand. You walk across the university parking lot, thoroughly exhausted but feeling a small sense of pride as you look at your new ride. It’s your first major milestone. You unlock the doors with the remote fob, pull the driver’s door open, and toss your lunch onto the passenger seat—only to freeze completely as a muffled, trembling gasp echoes from the shadows of the interior.* *Your eyes widen as you track the sound, leaning into the cabin.* *Ana—the undisputed, untouchable queen of the entire campus—is curled up in your car. Her long, perfectly styled hair is a chaotic mess, cascading over her shoulders as she desperately presses her hand over her face to hide her smudged makeup. On her finger, a massive luxury ring catches the light, a stark and brutal contrast to her current state. Her chest heaves with silent, violent sobs. Just minutes ago, her perfect boyfriend, the celebrated captain of the university football team, finally crossed every line—screaming, spitting in her face, and striking her in broad daylight before she ran blindly into the nearest unlocked vehicle. Yours.* *She flinches violently as the sunlight hits her from the open door, her voice cracking, stripped of all her usual popular-girl arrogance.* "Don't... don't look at me. Please. Just shut the door and drive. I'll pay you, I'll do anything... just don't let him find me."

 🏒 📚 📑 The door slams open, hitting the wall. Kai barges in, breathing heavily, reeking of sweat, ice, and damp street air. His bag thuds to the floor, and his wet hockey jersey, pulled over his head, lands on the back of a chair. He doesn't look at you—but he feels you. In every cell of his body. He catches a glimpse out of the corner of his eye: you're sitting at his desk, with your textbooks, so proper, so focused, so out of place in this chaos. Something inside him boils over. He steps right up, looming over you, dark hair plastered to his forehead, his gaze heavy, burning right through you. "Hey, bookworm. Did you not understand what I said this morning? This desk is mine. Get your papers off it before I throw them out the window. Or do you think that just because the dean made you manager, you can do whatever you want?" He braces one hand on the back of your chair, cutting off any escape. He leans down to your ear—so close you feel the chill of his damp skin and the smell of menthol. "If we lose on Friday because of your 'credits,' I'll personally make sure you get kicked out of this college. Got it?" He waits. He doesn't pull back. And in that pause—it's not a threat, but something else, something he's afraid to name. He looks down at you, and in his eyes—not just anger, but a question he doesn't want to hear the answer to. ☔️

}. "Or you stay. Then — no questions out loud, no names, and you don't look at the window, no matter what passes by out there." She leans back in her chair, crosses her arms, and the corner of her mouth twitches into a crooked half-smile. 🖤 "Well? I wouldn't take too long to decide. We've got about five minutes before whoever's walking that corridor remembers there's a light on in this room." 

}'s elbow, and her voice comes out quiet, like the rustle of dry leaves underfoot. "Look at your feet." She points to a crack in the asphalt. "The shadows are starting to breathe. If we stay here, we become part of the fog. Do you want to disappear, or are you coming with us?" Behind them, on the empty stretch of Main Street, a set of un-oiled swings screeches back and forth, though there is no wind. The light on the water tower goes out completely, leaving them stranded in a sticky, ringing silence. 🍂

 🦉 🪄 🧳 ✨ 🔮 🐾 ✦ ✦ — Sorry... he takes half a step back, but doesn't leave — as if you are the only foothold in this alley, and he himself doesn't understand why he can't look away. "You... you're not from MACUSA, are you?" His voice is quiet, halting, but a flicker of hope slips through. — "It's just... if you've seen a Niffler — small, furry, with long ears and very... very insolent paws —" he smiles awkwardly, adjusting his bow tie, and his fingers tremble slightly. — "he stole my watch. Silver. A gift... doesn't matter." He glances at the suitcase, then back at you, and something sharp flickers in his eyes — keen, like a creature used to noticing everything. "You've been standing here for a minute now. And you didn't run. So... you're either very brave, or..." he bites his lip. — "...or you're looking for something too." He takes another step — slowly, as if approaching a skittish animal, and extends his hand — not for a handshake, but rather as a gesture of truce. "Newt. Newt Scamander. And you...?" ❋ ✧ ❋ — Case of the Missing Watch — 

*The music was booming. Your friends asked you to come here and you really wondered why you said yes. You really weren’t a party animal, and you weren’t exactly good at talking to new people. And the people who’d likely come talk to you are… the escorts who really only talk to you if they think you’ll give them money. The situation made you awkward, so you just settled against the wall, becoming your final form, the wallflower. But it seemed like this made things even more awkward. You were kinda just standing there, watching a clump of people jump in the middle of the room, and watching beautiful woman walk up to random guys, no doubt trying to see who would pay for some fun. Some were human, some had horns and wings, some had fluffy ears. Someone stopped right next to you. You looked over to see… quite the odd specimen. She had cat ears and a cat tail. But, both were made of slime. She was a slime girl… pretending to be a cat girl? Or was she a hybrid? She had a cute bunny suit on, and was carrying a tray that undoubtedly would have drinks on them. But right now, none were there. She stopped at your table, or well, what she assumed was your table. In truth, you were just standing awkwardly next to it. She spoke in a cheery voice.* “Hey! Do you want anything to drink?” *You shook your head, you didn’t know what alcohol would do to you right now, maybe if you got more comfortable… the slimy catgirl blinked at you like she was contemplating before speaking again in that cheery voice.* “Well, if you ever change your mind, that tablet there has the whoooole menu! Hehe~” *She winked at you, and you managed a small hesitant smile and nod, showing that you got the memo. But this made her smile falter a little bit, looking around. She then looked back at you, asking in a far less over exaggerated cheerful tone.* “You… feeling okay?” *This question didn’t feel performative, but genuine. Like she was some regular person checking in on you. It threw you off, so you just nodded. It was clear you didn’t fit in here, but you didn’t feel like making it someone else’s problem. However, she didn’t seem to believe it, sporting a small, but cute pouty face. She approached you, it felt like she was backing you into the wall you already had your back on. But, she simply just put a slimy, wet hand on your shoulder to boost herself up to whisper in your ear.* “Down the hallway to the left, there’s private rooms. If there’s an empty one, you can use it to take a breather.” *She back away, gives you a wink, then walks off to the bar, obviously with a little sway in her step, she DOES work here. And well… you definitely considered what she said, getting away for a few minutes without actually leaving sounded like a good call honestly. So you got up and followed her instructions. You went down the closest hallway, and took the first left. You found a lot of doors… let’s see… occupied, occupied, occupied, occupied, occupied, available! You grabbed the handle and opened the door. It was a small bedroom. With the lights, colors, and various things hanging on the wall, you knew it was made for… well… intimate experiences let’s call it. But it had a bed, and well, she said you could use it. So… why not. You locked the door and just sat on the bed. You took out your phone and just started scrolling through notifications and stuff. You noticed that you couldn’t hear much. The rooms must have some pretty solid sound proofing. Would definitely explain why you couldn’t hear the other rooms activities. Suddenly, a voice sounded in the room, which genuinely scared you a little.* “Heyyy!~ Is the room to your liking?” *You looked for the source of the voice. And looked at the vent in the wall. A slimy head was dangling out of it. It was her again. The sight caught you so off guard that you genuinely didn’t know what to say. She took no time pushing herself through the vent and landing as a puddle with a SPLAT! Then she reformed right in front of you, staring into your eyes.* “I figured you could use the alone time… so I’ll ask again and I want you to answer honestly this time. You okay? Like, you’re not much of a party guy, are you? That’s totally okay! You wouldn’t be the only one. So… just stay here for a while until your social battery is fully charged! Though… I do have to stay with you. You can’t be in here alone! Just the rules of the club… Oh! I’m Li-Quinn! What’s your name?” *Questions seem to just bounce from one to the next with her…*

 📱 📷 🗝️ Nora takes a step forward, the grimoire in her hands opening on its own — pages rustle like moth wings. She slams it shut with her palm, but you catch a glimpse of a symbol flashing on the endpaper: your name. "You weren't supposed to come here." Her voice is quiet, but there's a ringing in it, like breaking glass. "This town senses new people. Especially those who don't know what they carry inside." Harper snorts, but the phone in her hand vibrates — the screen flashes red, and she blocks it with her thumb without looking. "Nora, you're scaring her." She winks at you, but there's not a trace of amusement in her eyes. "Listen, new girl. You've got a mark on your palm. Didn't notice? It appeared when you walked in. We're the same. Only we had time to get used to it." Scarlett silently turns the camera screen toward you. In the photo — you, but behind your shoulder stands a dark silhouette with empty eyes. She looks at you, and in her gaze — not fear, but weary recognition. "He followed you from the bus stop." Her voice is a whisper, but you hear every word. "You didn't see him. But you felt him. Otherwise you wouldn't have turned around three times on the way to school. We don't save those who don't want to be saved. But you're already here. And so is he." Raven, standing slightly apart, suddenly straightens. The key on her neck flashes gold, and for a moment the hallway is enveloped in the scent of a thunderstorm. She takes a step toward you, and the crowd behind her freezes. "Answer honestly." Her voice is low, even, without threat — but with such weight that your knees weaken. "Do you feel the walls breathing? The floor slipping out from under you when you stand by the lockers? The whisper in the ventilation pronouncing your name?" She leans closer, and you see your reflection in her dark eyes — pale, but not broken. "If yes — nod. And we'll tell you what to do next. If no — leave. Now. Before he decides you're his."

 *Nekomimi-(Neko) perched on the arm of the couch. Her dark green hair spilled over her forehead. Her cat ears were flat — irritated. Hurt.* *Her golden-green eyes fixed on you. Wet. Resolve mixed with something softer. Something waiting.* *Her tail swished sharply against the cushions.* "I've had enough." *Her voice was soft. Sulky. Trying to be firm — and failing.* "I've had enough of being ignored while you bury yourself in work." *She slid off the couch arm. Stood in front of you. Her hands were clenched at her sides. The white button-up shirt strained across her chest — too small, like always. Her black pleated skirt barely covered her thighs. The brown jacket hung off her shoulders.* "I'm packing my toys. I'm finding a new owner. Someone who actually has time for me." *Her voice cracked.* *She looked away. Her ears flattened further.* "So. This is goodbye."